


That One Time With the Time-Dilation Field

by seussian



Series: Torchwood/1D Crossover Thing [1]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Doctor Who, Alternate Universe - Torchwood, Crossover, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-04
Updated: 2015-03-04
Packaged: 2018-03-16 06:39:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,028
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3478181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seussian/pseuds/seussian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Louis and Liam find themselves trapped in a time loop during their latest mission.</p>
            </blockquote>





	That One Time With the Time-Dilation Field

**Author's Note:**

> This is a porny little one-shot from a larger Torchwood/1D crossover universe I came up with one night while I was drunk and rewatching the best TW episodes while stalking old X Factor vids online. I have outlines and plot arcs, but this is all I've actually written of it so far. Typical.

They’ve been trapped in the hotel room for six days.

The first day was relatively normal. They had made themselves busy mocking one another’s pajama choices and trying to choose the most obnoxious program on television while they worked to compile intel on the mission objective.

The second day was full of a lot of name-calling, recriminations, and stubborn pride.

The third day was better left unmentioned.

The fourth and fifth days were, for the most part, desperate.

“For fuck’s sake!” Liam roars, swiping the laptop and tourist booklet from the desk with his arm on the sixth day. Louis remains unmoved against the headboard, idly flicking through the same twenty channels that have been boring him for days now. He raises an eyebrow and settles on Iron Chef - again. Liam has cycled through this particular emotion a hundred times already and Louis is a bit sick of it.

“Come on, Payno,” he says. “Give it a rest and come watch telly with me.” He pats the spot next to him on the bed. “Nothing’s going to get done with you throwing a fit every five minutes and I’ve had just about enough cleaning up after you.”

“ _After me?!_ ” Liam spins around with an incredulous look on his face. “I spend _my life_ chasing after you cleaning up your messes!” He holds up a closed fist. “The time you poured corrosive chemicals over that alien rocket,” he flicks up his forefinger, “that time you and Styles trashed a storage room full of surveillance footage because you were playing hide-and-seek,” another finger, “Niall’s fucking birthday party!” He waves his fingers in Louis’ face, “And that’s just this week, Tomlinson! Cleaning up after _me!?_ \--” he bites off what is clearly the beginning of a tirade and instead kneels to gather up the laptop pieces in his hands. It will be perched on the desk next to the lamp in the morning without a scratch, but what else does he have to do with his time?

Louis laughs under his breath at the furious look on Liam’s face. He’s starting to find that expression sort of adorable. 

Okay. This is what Stockholm Syndrome must feel like.

Louis bends to lean over the side of the bed and stretches out his own fist. “Okay, first of all that bottle was marked ‘cleaner’ and it isn’t my fault the archivists use code words for their weird shit,” he point an obnoxious finger in Liam’s face. “Second, we were not playing hide-and-seek. We were running away from Grimmy’s murder-dog-spider thing and just so happened to knock over a few things that… accidentally dominoed into one another,” he pokes out his second finger and twists his hand around to flip Liam off. “And third,” he finishes triumphantly, leaning back up and flopping into the pillows, “Niall’s birthday was fucking aces mate, and you know it.”

Liam brings every molecule of strength gathered from his career as a Torchwood agent to bear, and absolutely does not blush hotly at the memory of that party. He instead tidies the laptop remnants into a pile on the desk and brushes his hands crisply over his trousers as he stands up. 

“I’m going to take a shower,” he says, manfully restraining himself from violence. He peels off the suit jacket he insists on wearing during the daylight hours of their captivity and drops it over the back of the desk chair. Louis watches out of the corner of his eye and can’t help but goad him, just a little.

“Why? It’s not like you’ve gotten dirty in the days we’ve been here,” he says. “I mean, we’ve plotted, schemed, thrown things - mostly you’ve done that, but still - and we’ve watched the same episode of ‘X Factor’ over and over again, but we’ve never gotten dirty.” He waggles his eyebrow and spreads his knees apart. “Not yet, anyway,” he leers, blowing a kiss.

He’s mostly just fucking with Liam, trying to rile up one of the most responsible and uptight men he’s ever met, but when Liam’s face flares red and his jaw tenses up like he’s going to tear him a new one, Louis can’t hold himself back. He pitches himself up off the bed and crowds into Liam’s space before the other man can push past his obvious discomfort, sliding his hands along the tie wrapped around Liam’s neck. Louis blinks coquettishly up at him through his lashes and in his most affected flirtatious voice says, “You could get me dirty, Payno.”

Liam snaps.

Louis’ eyes fly open when Liam hauls him up by the elbow. A vicious sounding snarl rips from Liam’s chest as he spins Louis around and slams him face first into the desk. One broad hand grips the back of Louis’s neck, the other pulling his wrist up behind his back, pressing him into the wood. “Could I?” Liam hisses, fingers tightening. “You’ve been nothing but a pain in the ass since you joined my team - I suppose I can be a pain in yours.” Louis groans at the horrible wordplay but sucks in a gasp when Liam kicks his feet apart. “You think you’re so clever and so funny,” he says, “so sexy and talented with your gun.” Liam growls the last word into Louis’ ear and grinds himself against his ass. A short, stifled whimper escapes Louis’ mouth.

“Umm,” he utters inelegantly, “Payne?” Liam just tightens his grip even more and rolls his hips. Louis knows he’ll be bruised from the pressure, and giddily wonders if the bruises will last or if he’ll be repaired in the morning just like the laptop. “Payno, I was just-” he’s cut off when Liam rears up and releases Louis’ wrist. He’s so startled that he doesn’t move when Liam uses his free hand to yank down Louis’ pants. 

“I know what you were ‘just,’” Liam says, pressing his cock against Louis’ ass. Louis can feel precum dampening the fabric of Liam’s trousers. “You were ‘just’ teasing. You were ‘just’ messing about,” he says with a bite to Louis’ ear. “Well, I’m just calling your bluff, ‘Tommo’” he says, a mocking inflection around the nickname because they both know they’re not friends. They’re not a couple of guys hanging around the rec room post-mission and sharing popcorn. They’re not two men sharing a laugh and toxically spiked punch at a friend’s birthday party. They’re Team Leader and Newbie. Boss and Rookie. Field Agent Payne and Trainee Tomlinson.

At the moment, though. At the moment Louis can accept they’re maybe something else, too.

He gasps against the hard wood and tilts his ass up into Liam’s body, six days worth of tension and impotent frustration gathering in the motion of his hips.

“Christ, Payne - just do it, yeah?” he says, pressing into the resistance of Liam’s hand around his neck. “Just fucking do it.” 

Liam shudders against Louis and reaches down to unfasten his own trousers. “I don’t have any-” he starts, because he’s not a bully and can’t bring himself to inflict unnecessary pain on someone for whom he’s responsible. Probably the reason why Louis’s still alive, to be honest. Louis whines low in the back of his throat and bucks his hips back into Liam’s crotch. “Sir, please,” he says, and Liam blacks out for a second.

When he comes to, he’s got a small bottle of hotel conditioner in one hand and Louis’ ass cheek in the other. Louis is writhing shamelessly against the edge of the desk, bracing his hands against the wall now that Liam has let go of his wrists. Liam shakes himself free of his trance and pours the entire bottle of conditioner over his cock and Louis’ asshole and proceeds to rub it in with two fingers. Louis shivers out a huff of air and clenches, making Liam stroke harder.

“You like that?” he asks. Louis rolls his eyes and grunts.

“I like it,” he says. “I’d like your dick more.”

“Jesus,” Liam breathes, and shifts to press in. Louis tenses for the smallest of moments before his spine melts and he collapses against the desk. A low animal noise wrenches itself free from Louis’ gut as Liam drives his cock into Louis’ body, merciless and deep. Louis scrapes at the paint on the wall with his fingernails and lifts himself up on his toes to meet every thrust. He dips his chin down to his chest and pants for air, gasping every time Liam drags his dick along his prostate.

“You’re so goddamn,” Liam gasps out against the nape of Louis’ neck as he drives into him, “Fucking. Difficult.”

“You’re not exactly a ray of sunshine yourself, Sir,” Louis croaks, tentatively lifting a hand away from the wall and reaching for his cock. Liam smacks the hand away and grabs Louis in himself. 

“That so, rookie?” he says, and sucks Louis’ earlobe into his mouth as he pulls roughly on the head of Louis’ dick. Louis’ eyes roll back in his head and he wails as Liam relentlessly tugs him to orgasm. “Fuck!” he shouts, smacking his ass back into Liam’s hips and crying out when Liam grasps his waist in a firm grip and drives his cock deep into his body. Louis can feel Liam come as he shakes against his skin.

They both collapse onto the desk, Liam blanketing Louis’ body and curving around the bow of Louis’ back. Harsh, wet panting disturbs the quiet of the hotel room for long minutes while they gather themselves and try to think of something to say to each other that isn’t ‘oh fuck what have we done.’

Louis takes a deep breath and braces himself to speak, but at that moment the impenetrable door to their hotel room crashes inward and Niall, Leigh-Anne, and Perrie burst in to rescue them. Liam whips out a gun from who knows where and, still pressed against Louis’ ass, aims it at Niall’s forehead.

“And just where have you all been, eh?” Louis manages from underneath Liam. 

***

Turns out the bruises _do_ last, but they don’t talk about it.

The debriefing with Director Katz goes about as well as Louis thought it would, though. She mainly nods and takes notes with an expression on her face that’s a little too close to amusement for Louis’ comfort. The hot, stale air in the too-large conference room makes his throat dry and he coughs around the words ‘time dilation field’ and ‘plenty to keep busy.’ Katz doesn’t flinch; she pushes a glass of water across the table at him with a fingertip and asks very seriously if he would like to visit one of the many Torchwood psychiatrists on hand. He declines.

“Alright then, Tomlinson,” she says, fitting the cap back onto her ballpoint pen. “You’re free to report back for duty tomorrow morning at 8 a.m.” She stands and holds out a hand. “Good work, rookie.” Louis shakes it with a fixed smile on his face and leaves the room, pretending he doesn’t hear her low laughter behind him.

Louis swears Torchwood leadership is unhinged. 

Case in point.

“Come with me,” Liam barks, striding past Louis and ruffling the air currents with his speed. He disappears down the other end of the hallway before Louis can catch up. Louis takes the corner and just manages to see a supply closet door swing shut. He gulps. 

“Right then, Tommo,” he says to himself. “Strength and courage, man.” He straightens his back and follows Liam into the closet. “Look, Payne I’m flattered and all but-” he swallows the rest because - oh joy - they’re not alone. 

“Quiet,” Liam hisses. Niall winks at Louis over Liam’s shoulder and Leigh-Anne knocks into him with her shoulder. Perrie just grins and covers her mouth with a hand when Louis blushes. They all settle when Liam fixes his sharp eyes each of them in turn. “We have a situation,” he begins in a hushed tone. They lean in to hear and Louis, despite being jammed into a broom cupboard with four trigger-happy nut cases and a semi-hardon, is glad things are back to normal.

Well. Normal for Torchwood, anyway.

**Author's Note:**

> Director Katz - in my head - is Beverly Katz from Hannibal because she is the light of my life and deserves to take over the world.
> 
> Former Agent Styles spends a lot of time with Grimmy in the Torchwood archives after he's injured in the line of duty, bothering him and getting into mischief. Grimmy only pretends to be aggravated.
> 
> Malik, Thirlwall, and Nelson command Control Room One, and when not guiding reckless agents through mazes of alien booby traps, can be found gossiping about Grimmy's weird obsession with Raxacoricofallapatorius and the upcoming Malik/Edwards wedding, an event which will prove both sickeningly romantic and wildly felonious.
> 
> Agents Pinnock and Edwards are on Liam's strike team. They enjoy long walks on the beach, midnight margaritas, and giving Agent Payne a hard time.
> 
> Trainees Horan and Tomlinson are new to Torchwood in the wake of Canary Wharf, but are confidant that their combined strengths in stubbornness, bravado, and sheer bullshit will serve them well. Horan, at least, is confidant. Tomlinson is pretty sure his crush on his boss will get him kicked out of Torchwood, if not the country.
> 
> As for Agent Payne, he cares deeply enough for his team that it comes off arrogant and prudish. His last team died strapped to conversion units during the invasion, and if following the rules and maintaining order make him disliked -well, at least it will keep them alive... except for maybe Tomlinson. He may just kill Louis himself.


End file.
